


Unwanted Truths

by willow_larkspur



Series: Gwen's Competition Fics [54]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Harry Potter, Autistic Poppy Pomfrey, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Desi Harry Potter, Gen, Greek Poppy Pomfrey, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 19:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willow_larkspur/pseuds/willow_larkspur
Summary: Poppy Pomfrey wanted to believe that Harry Potter was just small because he took after Lily Evans. A simple physical unveils a dark truth.





	Unwanted Truths

**Author's Note:**

> Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I’m just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn’t going to get you anything but tears.  
Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if that’s you.  
Author’s Note: So…has anyone ever wonder how Pomfrey never seemed to have noticed the abuse in canon? Let’s fix that part, shall we?

(^^)  
**Unwanted Truth**  
(^^)

Poppy Pomfrey did not always make it to the Start of Term feast. It was a Hogwarts secret that she spent her summers working at a small family clinic in Edinburgh. In fact, she saw many of the magically-raised children in the summer before their first year, for their physicals. Muggle-borns usually received a less thorough version from their Muggle doctor. It was almost unheard of for a child to attend Hogwarts without having had a medical form filed with her. One such exception was the reason that she made sure to be on time for the Feast.

Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts, and he did not have a form on file.

It was a simple problem with an easy solution. Poppy only needed a few moments to cast the diagnostic charms and just a few more to ask any clarifying questions necessary (there rarely were any at this age). She would simply pull the boy aside towards the end of the feast and afterwards escort him to his new common room.

Poppy hadn’t expected him to be so small. First-years always looked much smaller than the other children, of course, but this bothered her slightly. It was probably nothing. If she recalled correctly, Harry had been born a bit premature. Also, she could clearly see Lily in the boy, even if he had his father’s dark complexion and fly away hair. Lily had always been on the slighter side of average. The boy probably just took after her.

Despite her internal attempt to reassure herself, something about how Harry was easily the smallest of the incoming students nagged at her throughout the meal. She kept a furtive watch on him. He ate heartily, just like the other students did. So many of the poor dears forgot to pack anything substantial to eat during the train ride to the school and consequentially hadn’t eaten since their breakfast. Of course, Harry was a bit, well, _defensive_ of his plate, but then wasn’t most boys at that age? It was probably nothing more than that. She would have a laugh over her foolish fretting after she finished his physical.

Of course, then Albus announced to the entire school that there was _certain death_ in a _forbidden corridor_, practically guaranteeing that any student with even an ounce of adventurous curiosity would be investigating the area as soon as possible. She fumed all the way through the school song, made even longer by the Weasley twins choosing a dirge as their melody. When she was finally able to scold Albus for his foolishness, it had taken so long that the Gryffindors were likely already to the entrance to their dormitory.

Giving Harry a thorough physical slipped her mind, but it was probably fine.

(^^)

Not two weeks later, Poppy found herself in Minerva’s office just as livid about a threat to her charges as she had been at the feast. There was a reason that first-years were not allowed unsupervised access to brooms, let alone allowed on the Quidditch teams. What in the name of Hygieia was Minerva thinking when she put the smallest first-year on the House team in the position that was the most dangerous?

Scratch that. Poppy knew exactly what the old broom-head was thinking when she saw the small form of a half-decent flyer. She was thinking that she had lost her last Seeker the year before last and then the Quidditch Cup to Severus. She was _not_ thinking about broken bones and strained muscles and stunted growth and, and, and—

“He doesn’t even have a physical on file!” Poppy exclaimed to end her rant. Minerva had gotten increasingly stiffer as Poppy had made her displeasure known. Poppy couldn’t tell if the Head of Gryffindor was properly chastised or was clinging to the idea that it was perfectly alright to do whatever it took to prove that her House was the best. The tight set of her face could go either way. “You _know_ that is required for school sports! Also, how _dare you_ offer the position to the poor boy before assuring that his guardians will permit it! What if they decide that he can’t play? It would cruel to have given him false expectations!”

“His guardians are Muggles,” Minerva said in that even way that declared just how angry she was. Poppy threw her hands up in the air.

“And that makes it any difference? They are still his guardians! They could still say he can’t play a dangerous sport!”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Minerva looked like a cat that had gotten the canary. It took a moment for Poppy to process exactly what the other woman’s words meant in combination with that expression.

“Sweet daughter of Ascelpius,” she swore when it hit her. “You don’t even intent to ask, do you? You would send that boy out on the field for those bloody death matches without even asking if his guardians mind.”

“Quidditch is not that dangerous,” Minerva dismissed. “There’s no need to frighten them unnecessarily. You’re worrying for nothing.”

Poppy had to take a deep breath in order to quell the urge to scream. Using the same habit that she had developed for dealing with ill-tempered patients and eager house-elves, she mentally counted to five in her native Greek before daring to reply. Her tone ended up being a tad flat, but at least she hadn’t hexed the Deputy Headmistress.

“Send the boy to me for a physical. If you don’t, I will have Rolanda ground him as unfit to fly.”

“You can’t do that,” Minerva protested as irate as a drenched cat. Poppy kept her expression in a determined set as she raised her chin and forced herself to meet Minerva’s eyes directly rather than using one of the tricks to fake it. She counted to five again before forcing the words past the thickness beginning to clog the back of her throat.

“_Want to bet?”_

(^^)

Poppy was in the middle of taking inventory of her supply pantry when the silent alarm on the door went off. Setting aside her task, she hurried out to check what problem needed dealt with only to freeze at the sight of the figure just within the threshold. It struck her anew just how tiny the boy was.

She knew that he was eleven—the entire wizarding world knew details like that—but if she hadn’t already known his age, she would have guessed that he was eight based on his build. She had to remind herself of Lily had always been just as slight to counter the surge of unease that swelled within her. Also, children born prematurely—especially magical children born prematurely—didn’t always catch up until adolescence corrected the few bits that would have been completed in those last precious weeks.

Harry being small was probably nothing, which would be confirmed with just a few diagnostic charms.

“Mr. Potter,” Poppy greeted, waving the boy farther into the room. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered politely. Had she not been trying to fake eye contact herself, she might not have noticed how his gaze was more centered just below her nose than on her eyes. His hands tightened on the strap of his carryall so much that the knuckles were turning white. “Professor McGonagall said that I had to report here as soon as possible or have detention for the rest of the term. I came immediately.”

“You must have,” she acknowledged, inwardly seething at the idea that Minerva would be so petty as to threaten the poor boy. Then again, Minerva was often as temperamental as her Animagus form, so her being short with the boy shouldn’t be a surprise. It didn’t change that the poor dear was visibly scared (though he _was_ doing a remarkable job of hiding it). “This should only take a little bit and then we’ll get you back to class.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry hesitated, his eyes darting around the room quickly, before continuing. “I don’t actually know why I was sent here. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Mr. Potter.” Poppy summoned the sheath of paper she had prepared. Predictably, Harry’s eyes went wide at the small display of wandless magic. “It’s just a minor paperwork issue. You don’t have a physical on record.”

“Sorry,” he apologized again. “I didn’t know that I was supposed to. It wasn’t in my letter, and Hagrid didn’t say anything.”

“Hagrid?”

“He’s the one who delivered my letter,” he explained. While that did clarify a few things in her mind, it created even more questions. Hagrid was not on the list for handling anything involving the Muggle world or the parents of students, and for good reason. The man had problems keeping both secrets and his temper. He just didn’t have the right skillset and personality for the task. Moreover, Poppy knew that at least three professors who _were on the list_ had kept their schedules cleared just in case they were needed. Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Harry quickly continued. “Don’t be mad with Hagrid. Things just happened so fast, and I’m sure that he meant to tell me.”

“I’m not upset at all, Mr. Potter,” Poppy said. “Nonetheless, you still need a physical done. Come stand here and it will all be over in a jiffy.”

“You don’t need me to strip?” Harry asked nervously. Used to that very question from Muggle-raised children, she just smiled and shook her head. His hands shifted on his bag’s strap as he moved into position. She was a little worried about his bottom lip. He looked like he was about to chew through it. “The matron at Brickman was always wanting me to strip when she gave me the physicals. She did them often with me. There were a few others she did it to as well, but then they all left with the CPS man, and it was just me.”

“Is that so, Mr. Potter?” she asked to encourage his rambling. Anything to distract him from his nerves. “Do you get sick often?”

All the while she was casting her diagnostic charms. The parchment she had prepared was filling up startlingly fast. Poppy wasn’t surprised that his previous school nurse had been concerned. Even without looking over the results for the details, Poppy could tell that something about the situation was just as bad as she had been trying to convince herself that it wasn’t from the sheer volume of diagnoses being returned.

She might be grounding him after all, because there was no way that someone with such a long list was fit to be playing dodgeball with iron missiles at a hundred feet in the air.

Once the parchment stopped fluttering, Poppy got Harry set up at the student desk near the door to her office. She needed to access the information before she could release him. There might be something that needed immediate intervention.

Poppy was not surprised to see autism and executive function disorder in the neurology section. She knew how to recognize someone like her easily enough, and James Potter had had executive function disorder. What was shocking was the degree of damage overall to Harry’s nervous system. It was rather shocking that he was able to function at all and that he hadn’t gone completely blind.

Frowning, she began to read the results more quickly. Harry had thin and brittle bones. There was a lot of organ stress, especially in the kidneys. He was grossly underweight despite already being undersized.

And the list of healed fractures made her want to vomit.

It all pointed to only one conclusion: Harry Potter was being terribly abused in a way that included prolonged starvation.

She looked over at the diligently working boy. He had become absorbed in his task, to the point where an Exploding Charm could go off right behind him and he wouldn’t notice. How could anyone have deliberately—and to reach this degree, it would have had to been deliberate—hurt such a sweet boy?

Oh, she was certain that he was probably frustrating at times. Even her dear wives, both with the patience of saints, got frustrated with some of her ‘quirks’ sometimes. Poppy could remember some of the incidents from James’ years at Hogwarts that could be tied directly back to poor risk assessment and impulsive actions. Life with an atypical neurology was never easy and they always seem to travel in groups, too. While she hadn’t seen any sign of it in the spell scans, Poppy was willing to bet that little Harry had some type of anxiety disorder as well.

Poppy shook her head, at a loss of what to do now with the truth she had just uncovered. Obviously, getting Harry away from his guardians on a permanent basis was going to be needed, but as a more immediate need, she needed to contact an actual healer. A good deal of the damage to Harry’s body was going to a more specialized and advanced knowledge of medical magic that she had, even after working so long as a medi-witch.

She had an ideal healer in mind, too. Ted Tonks specialized in abuse cases and was familiar with the documentation necessary for both sides of the Statute Divide. Even better, his bonded wife was Andromeda Black, who had kept her maiden name as an act of defiance against those members of her familial house who had called for her to be officially disowned. Andromeda Black had made a name for herself in legal circles for being ruthlessly efficient before the court.

Poppy had to figure out how to tell Minerva that there was no way that Harry could be her Seeker, though. Quidditch was just too dangerous for someone with Harry’s bone structure. Maybe he would progress enough with treatment that he would be able to reach a point that he could play next year with just a bit of extra risk than expected for a Seeker.

For now, though, she had a patient to begin treating.

**Author's Note:**

> Submitting Info:  
Stacked with: Hogwarts (Term 11); MC4A  
Individual Challenges: Gryffindor MC (x3); Hufflepuff MC; Sett to Destroy; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Short Jog; Themes & Things B [Protection]; Feeling So Logical [Practical]; Neurodivergent; Ethnic & Present; Quiet Time; Flags & Ribbons; Advice from the Mug; Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux  
House: Hufflepuff  
Assignment No.: Term 11 – Assignment 02  
Subject (Task No.): Game Development (Task#7: Write about uncovering a truth.)  
Other Hogwarts Challenges: Insane House Challenge [175] (Truth); 365 [347] (Fracture); Galleon (Hospital Wing)  
Space Address (Prompt): n/a  
Representation(s): Autistic Harry Potter; Autistic Poppy Pomfrey  
Bonus Challenges: Muck & Slime; Rock of Ages; Abandoned Ship; Surprise!; Second Verse (Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress; Nightingale; Unwanted Advice; Three’s Company; Lovely Coconuts); Chorus (Wabi Sabi; Bee Haven; Peddling Pots; Tomorrow’s Shade; A Long Dog; Larger than Life; Unicorn; Wind Beneath)  
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: T3 (Terrarium); SN (Rail; Negate); LiCK (Tansy); O3 (Orator; Olivine);  
Word Count: 2357


End file.
